


Reactor

by HeronRainwater



Series: Blaine Stark 'verse [20]
Category: Glee, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Absolutely improbable injuries, But anon asked for arc reactor, So I tried, blaine stark, seriously it makes no sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeronRainwater/pseuds/HeronRainwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine huffed and looked down at the dim blue glow shining through his shirt. He tapped on it experimentally; it was cold and weird and he really didn’t care for it, but it beat being dead, right? </p><p>Blaine gets hurt and ends up with an arc reactor in his chest. He isn't the best patient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reactor

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked for Blaine getting hurt and needing an arc reactor.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Tony wouldn’t have wished it upon anyone, not his worst enemy, definitely not his son. His Blaine, who wasn’t even eighteen yet, who serenaded a boy with a freaking Katy Perry song,  who stayed up all night waiting for his dad to come back from saving the world. But then it’d all gone wrong.

It hadn’t even been anything remotely dangerous. Blaine had managed to drag Tony out of the lab and outside into the real world. _You can buy me coffee_ , he’d said, _I don’t get to talk to you unless it’s over a piece of an Iron Man suit_. He’d been hesitant at first, but then Blaine had brought out the puppy dog eyes. There they were, sat at a table in the corner of some hipster little place a few blocks from the tower, ignoring the curious looks, the whispers of _‘oh my God is that Tony Stark?’_ and the tapping as people no doubt tweeted exactly what was going on. Other than that, it was normal. It was quiet. Everything was okay.

And then the building collapsed around them.

He’d woken up in a hospital bed God knows how much later. Bruce had regarded him unsurely from the hospital regulation plastic chair, adjusting his glasses before breaking the news. Blaine was hurt. It was bad. There was too much debris, metal from the building framework or something in the tables or wherever the hell it came from, and it had embedded itself in his chest. Realistically speaking, he probably wasn’t going to make it.

“You have to get them to save him,” Tony had insisted, reaching out to grab at Bruce’s arm, “You need to stay with him for me. He can’t die, Bruce, he _can’t_. You have to do for him what Yinsen did for me. _Please_.”

“You’re sure?” Bruce asked quietly, “What’s Blaine going to think about this? Is this what he’d want?”

“I can’t lose him,” Tony had pleaded, “I’d never forgive myself if he… Kurt would never get over it. Pepper wouldn’t… please, Bruce?”

Bruce had twiddled his thumbs nervously before sighing and giving a single nod. “Okay.”

*

Blaine had been discharged a little over a day ago, and he was already bored of staring at the television screen. Pepper had set up the couch for him so that he wouldn’t have to attempt the stairs to his room just yet, and she was determined that he was to stay _exactly there_. Unless he needed the bathroom, of course, he was granted a reprieve for that. Well, provided someone helped him up and waited outside the door in case he passed out or something.

“You’re still getting used to it,” Bruce reasoned, “We just need to make sure you’re adjusting to it all right, no over-exerting yourself.”

Blaine huffed and looked down at the dim blue glow shining through his shirt. He tapped on it experimentally; it was cold and weird and he really didn’t care for it, but it beat being dead, right? Blaine tapped on the reactor again.

“You probably shouldn’t do that, son,” Steve said, looking over at him unsurely. It was Steve’s turn on the rota to keep an eye on him; Tony had insisted that there _wasn’t_ a rota, but Blaine was fairly sure they’d organised a four hours per shift system. Clint had been there earlier and Natasha had left the room just as he’d woken up. It wasn’t like Blaine had much else to do other than figure out ulterior motives.

“I’m _bored_ ,” Blaine rolled his eyes and tipped his head back. So what if he’d abandoned his usual display of perfect manners? He was bored and there was a freaking electromagnet _in his chest_ , he was entitled to a little complaining.

“I know, champ. Give it a few more days and-”

“And I’ll be let off house arrest?” Blaine finished hopefully, “This isn’t even house arrest, this is _couch arrest_. House arrest would be fine. I could do that.”

“One step at a time,” Steve smiled reassuringly, “Why don’t you try and get some more sleep?”

“All I do is sleep, _all the time_.”

“You were hurt pretty badly, you need to rest up.”

“I’ve rested enough for three people, I swear.”

“God, quit whining all the time,” Tony rolled his eyes, sauntering into the room too casually for a man who’d been in a building collapse less than a fortnight ago, “I’ll stay with this one, Cap; you’re dismissed or whatever.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. You’ve suffered him for long enough.”

“I’m _right here_ ,” Blaine scowled. Steve chose to leave without commenting.

“So,” Tony perched on the arm of the opposite couch, “How’re you doing, kid?”

“I’m bored.”

“I heard. But how’re you doing with that? It’s not poisoning you or anything, right? We’re skipping that stage, aren’t we?”

“If it were poisoning me, would I have to get more and more reckless, give away my belongings and get drunk off my ass?”

“That happened one time.”

“You could’ve died.”

“You almost did last week.”

The silence was heavy. Blaine bit at his lip. Tony watched him expressionlessly.

“But… I didn’t,” Blaine supplied.

“And now you’ve got _that_ in your chest.”

“You’ve managed fine with yours.”

“There wasn’t much lower for me to sink though, was there? I was already rock bottom. You don’t deserve this.”

“Neither do you.”

“Well, that’s debatable,” Tony shrugged, “I got nearly blown up by a missile with my name on it. That’s pretty deserving.”

“But-”

“This isn’t the point.”

Then what is?”

“I don’t know. I… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“But it wasn’t your-”

“Blaine. Just let me be sorry, all right? It’s not a word I throw around a lot.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks.”

“What did Mom say?”

Tony frowned, “What?”

“Mom,” Blaine repeated, “What did she say about all of this when you called her? You know, to let her know I wasn’t dead?”

“Oh shit,” Tony ran a hand through his hair, “I knew there was something else.”


End file.
